


Red

by FarOffPlaces



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Castiel (Supernatural), Established Relationship, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29854032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarOffPlaces/pseuds/FarOffPlaces
Summary: Dean's not okay after a hunt goes sideways, and Cas is there to help.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Red

Red. A deep, eye-catching red covers his hands like paint. It's not just red that's painted on, but fresh black and blue at the knuckles. They shake, making it nearly impossible to turn on the sink. He can't feel if the water's hot or cold or somewhere in between, and he's too numb to care.

He's too focused on his hands, on the rivers of red flowing from his skin to the porcelain of the sink, leaving watery pink droplets behind. His mind is fuzzy as he wonders if it'll stain, if he'll need to bleach the sink. It wouldn't be the first time. 

His clothes are ruined, torn and bloody like he was attacked by a lion or something equally as dangerous. He knows he'll have to throw them out, there's no salvaging them. 

He glances up at the mirror, barely noticing there's a deadness to his eyes that hadn't been there mere hours before. There's a cut on his cheek that's still bleeding, and there's blood, flaky and dry at his temple. There's more in his hair, turning it dark and crusty. 

He probably should've just showered. It didn't occur to him when he first stumbled through the bunker to the bathroom. Not after what just happened. 

He shakes his head a little, ignoring the dull throb of pain the action brings him. He shouldn't think about it right now, he can't think about it right now. He can't.

\----

He doesn't know how long he stands there, washing his hands repeatedly, on autopilot, when Cas finds him. His hands are red, not from blood anymore but from the water. He doesn't know if it's from heat or cold. His fingers are pruning.

He doesn't notice the angel until he catches a glimpse of tan in the mirror, and he whips around, suddenly alert. Once he sees and realizes it's just Cas, his shoulders slump and his mind goes back to the hazy state it had been in before. 

Cas isn't a threat, even though he has blood on him like Dean does. Instead, Dean's shoulders lose some of their tension, knowing he's a little safer with the angel around. He still doesn't relax, but he feels a tiny bit less wound up than before. It's an improvement. 

Cas wordlessly comes to stand a few inches behind him, to his left, and watches Dean through the mirror. They lock eyes, and a few seconds pass before Cas is leaning forward, arm reaching past Dean to turn off the sink. He then gently pulls on Dean's shoulder, turning the man to face him. 

Dean watches as his eyes rake over his body, thinking. It's not long before Cas has his hands on the lapels of Dean's jacket, quirking an eyebrow at him in a silent question. Dean's mouth feels like it's glued shut and coated in sandpaper, so he just nods the tiniest bit. 

Cas is slow to take off his jacket, gently pushing it off his shoulders and sliding the material down his arms, careful of any hidden wounds. He knows they're there, the blood seeping through parts of his jacket clear proof. 

Cas repeats the process with his flannel, and when he grips the hem of Dean's shirt, he's tempted to just rip it off. It'd be quicker, but the harshness of it would be too much for either of them right now. When Dean nods, Cas begins pulling the shirt up his torso, and Dean wordlessly raises his arms, barely feeling the twinge of pain the action causes in his ribcage. 

Once the shirt is off and on the floor with the other articles of clothing, he lets his arms drop back down, and he's eye-to-eye with Cas again. Cas' hands hover near Dean's belt, not knowing if it's okay for him to unbuckle it or not. Another nod of consent from Dean has him carefully undoing the leather strip, and once it's unlooped from his jeans, Cas gently sets it on the counter behind Dean, not wanting the buckle to make a loud noise that could spook the blond. 

He looks for permission before undoing Dean's jeans, and his fingers hesitantly curl over the waistband of both his jeans and his boxers. It's quicker that way, but he wants Dean's approval before doing both at once. Another nod has him sliding both articles of clothing down bowed legs, and when they pool at Dean'sfeet, he stands back up and offers Dean his hands, helping him step out of them. 

He doesn't let his eyes linger on any of the cuts and bruises on Dean's skin, instead choosing to step over to the shower, gently tugging on Dean's hands as he goes, prompting the man to follow him. He does.

He opens the glass door far enough so he can stick his arm in and turn on the water. He waits for it to heat up to an acceptable temperature before opening the door wider, turning to Dean. 

Dean wordlessly steps in, looking to Cas before glancing behind himself, at the space behind him. The silent request has Cas closing the door and opening the other side. 

He goes to step in, but Dean reaches out, undoing his tie and letting it drop to the bathroom floor. Cas gets the hint, stripping himself before stepping in behind the man. Dean watches him, and once Cas closes the glass door and looks at him, he steps closer. Stepping into Cas' space, he lets his head drop down onto the angel's bare shoulder. 

Cas slowly brings his arms up to wrap around Dean, and he feels the water hit his skin. He holds Dean, and in moments the skin on his shoulder is wet. It can only be from tears, from Dean's tears, and the realization has Cas pulling Dean closer. 

The blonde shudders, and Cas can feel the sob he tries to muffle into his shoulder. He brings a hand up to cup the back of Dean's head, running his fingers through the wet locks as he rests his head against Dean's. 

"It's okay to let it out," he says softly, mouth close to Dean's ear. "You don't have to hold it in." 

Another sob tears from Dean, and suddenly arms are around Cas, hands clutching tightly to his shoulder blades. It feels as though Dean's knees are close to giving out, and Cas sinks down to the shower floor with him. 

Dean's sobs pick up as he lets himself go, the toll of the day's events finally showing. Cas runs his fingers through Dean's hair, pressing a kiss to his temple as he lets him cry. 

\----

Cas is sitting on Dean's bed up against the headboard as the older Winchester climbs onto the bed and settles between his legs. He lays down on his stomach, resting his cheek on a thigh as his arms go around Cas' waist. 

Cas rests his arms on Dean's back, hand moving to run his fingers through Dean's hair again. The blond sighs, and Cas smiles down at him. Cas can feel his fingers sliding beneath the back of his shirt. 

Dean rests his hand on Cas' warm skin, palm flat and fingers spread out to cover as much skin as he can. It's a nice feeling, but compared to his own warmth, Dean's fingers are kind of cold. 

"I'm okay, Dean," Cas tries to assure him. He knows Dean's worried, and he doesn't want him to be.

"I kept thinking of when I had the Mark of Cain," Dean whispers, just loud enough for Cas to hear. "With how bloody my hands and clothing were, I couldnt help but think of when I nearly killed you." 

The angel frowns, but continues carding his fingers through somewhat dry hair. He doesn't understand why, out of all things, that was what Dean was thinking about. That had happened years ago, Dean had no reason to be thinking about that. 

"Why did that come to mind?" Cas asks softly, concerned. 

"What happened.... I wasn't in control of myself. It made me think of how I felt with the Mark. Then, when they made me attack Sammy, Jack, you, I just.... I couldn't help but think of that." Dean's voice is as soft as Cas', and the hunter shifts before continuing. "You guys could've stopped me. Jack could've easily stopped me. Why didn't he?"

"You would've gotten hurt," Cas tells him. "None of us wanted that."

"But I hurt him, Cas," Dean mumbles, burying his face into Cas' thigh. "I hurt all of you. All of you should be mad at me."

Cas shakes his head even though Dean can't see him. "It's not your fault Dean. It wasn't you."

Dean shifts again, just shrugging in response this time. Cas stays quiet for a few moments before shifting, and Dean quickly moves away. By the way the hunter pointedly doesn't look at him, Cas knows he thinks he's going to leave him. 

Cas lays down all the way, and reaches out to grab Dean's arm, pulling him into him. Dean doesn't try to protest, instead letting the angel pull him flush against his side. Dean shifts so his head is resting right over Cas' heart.

Even with being an angel, his heart beats, and the sound calms Dean down a little. 

Cas wraps his arms back around Dean, lifting his head to press a kiss to his hair. 

"We're all okay. I'm okay. You aren't allowed to beat yourself up over it," Cas tells him. 

Dean slings an arm across his waist and his leg moves to stretch across both of Cas'. He nods. "Okay," he whispers. 

A few seconds of silence pass before Dean speaks up again. "I love you."

Cas smiles, happiness flooding him. It's not often that Dean tells him, and every time that he does, Cas can't fight the bliss that follows. 

"I love you, too."


End file.
